


Playing Postman (of Love)

by A11e_B00klover



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Romance, College AU, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Crush, i guess, mentions allura and coran, secret parcel, this is the self edited version, wrote this for voltron secret santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A11e_B00klover/pseuds/A11e_B00klover
Summary: When Keith’s long-time crush leaves a package in his room, Keith’s decision to return it brings more than he bargains for.(Voltron SS 2017 entry, edited.)





	Playing Postman (of Love)

It begins with a party.

To be more precise, it begins the morning after the party when Keith wakes up and heads to the kitchen for something to drink. He’s certainly not expecting that his first step into the kitchen would result in something papery crinkling under foot - with a yelp, Keith steps back, hoping against hope that it wasn’t one of Shiro’s books.

Fortunately for Keith, it’s not one of Shiro’s books - it’s a parcel, dressed in Red wrapping paper that’s decorated with cute little reindeer. It’s around the length of half his arm, and when Keith carefully prods it with a finger it’s soft, a barely audible  _ shhshhk _ noise that Keith Recognizes as wrapping tissues. Whatever is inside it is thankfully undamaged by Keith’s wrong foot placement.

Carefully, Keith places the package down on the table, transferring beer bottles and empty cans to the ground. The entire room is a mess now that Keith’s more alert to notice, actually - there’s obvious attempts at tidying up, as evident by a full plastic bag at the corner of the room, but it’s half hearted. There are pillows and books strewn around like the remnants of a pillow fight, and underneath the table is an open bag of chips and, surprisingly, the remaining half of what seems to be a pack of bud. Shiro must have been feeling really bad to leave it undone, but Keith can take care of the rest. Grabbing the pack of chips, Keith flops onto the sofa, hands clasped loosely together in thought as he stares intently at the parcel.

It’s not his. Keith doesn’t remember buying anything that’s covered in red wrapping paper. It’s also not from his roommate - Shiro would have told Keith of it if it was. But whose parcel could it be then?

Maybe it was one of the guests from last night. Closing his eyes, Keith tries to recall who’d been at the celebration party. The memories appear like a string of bubbles, one after another - Hunk experimenting in the kitchen what beer could fry while they all acted as test eaters, Shiro and Allura and Matt patting themselves on the back for surviving finals, Pidge tipsily mumbling complex equations about space, Lance laughing as he leant against the sofa, cheeks flushed red, One warm arm around a two-glasses-more-than-he -should’ve-drunk Keith and the other on -

-On a red parcel with tiny deer decorations that was the length of Keith’s arm.

Keith’s eyes snaps open. Bingo.

A quick hunt confirms Keith’s suspicions - there’s a post it note containing ‘don’t forget’ in Lance’s handwriting a few feet away the parcel. It must have fallen off when Keith slipped on it. Lance must have forgotten about it while he was heading out with the others. Another quick search results in Keith’s phone - how the hell did it end up under the sofa? Keith’s barely finished sweeping it out from where it lay (alongside a small variety of dust bunnies) before he’s typing in Lance’s number.

“Hello!” Lance says after what feels like forever. Keith’s heart quickens. “This is Lance, if you’re hearing this I’m not capable of using my phone right now so leave a-“

Keith jabs the ‘end dial’ button with slightly more force than necessary. “Oh C’mon!” He yells when he reaches Lance’s voicemail for the third time. One repeat call later and that’s it - With a growl that only reveals the surface of the boiling vat of irritation inside him, Keith grabs the parcel and heads for his room.

Rationally, Keith knows that he can just wait till the next day to hand it over. Too bad that he doesn’t like to owe people things. Besides, Lance would probably accuse him of stealing if he waited too long, like the Bean Snake Incident of last year, and Keith absolutely refuses to go through that again so fuck it, if Lance can’t be reached through the phone, Keith is going to reach him in person. They all go to the same college - it’s how Keith met all of them (minus Shiro), and he can still remember Lance complaining about morning classes yesterday. All Keith has today is a lecture in the afternoon, but that doesn’t mean he can’t go there early to hand Lance his things back and get lunch in the process. That’s all there is to it.

(And if it means seeing Lance smile and getting more time to hang out with his long-term entirely secret crush, well, that was Keith’s secret and nobody else’s.)

-

Reaching the college is easy, even with a little detour for some coffee. Getting in touch with Lance is, unfortunately, a little more harder.

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Keith demands. The great stream of bodies that had flowed outside when the clock struck forty-five has dissipated into mere trickles by the time Keith had made it to the lecture hall, and the only person he’s managed to spot is Pidge, with her short stature and large round frames. “It’s his class! He’s supposed to be here!”

“It’s been seven minutes since class ended, Keith.” Pidge says, deadpan. “Lance is long gone. What’d you expect?”

“Ungh.” Keith groans, shoulders slumping in dismay. When he’d set out, he hadn’t exactly thought about what to do in case he missed Lance. “I don’t know, I guess I’d expected to - to run into him or something. Do you know where he is?”

“Well.” Pidge hums thoughtfully. The gaze she directs at Keith is one part amusement, one part analytic and three parts burning curiosity. Keith crosses his arms and tries not to feel like he’s a bug under a microscope. “I might, and I might not. Why’re you looking for him?”

Keith pulls out the red package. “He left this at my house. You remember the Bean Snake Incident in first year?”

“Oh yeah.” Pidge grins. “Aisle three in the supermarket, the pineapple-”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Keith interrupts, cheeks blazing red. “That was Lance! And the pineapple too!”

“Sure.” Pidge’s smirking now, eyes gleaming with amusement behind the glasses she wears. “Suuuure it wasn't your fault. Just like that time in class where everyone had to evacuate because of burning paper aeroplanes."

" _ That was because _ -"

"Yeah, I know, I was there." Pidge cuts in, and Keith wonders if Matt would forgive him if he punched his little sister in the shoulder. "But yeah." The smile slips away into a serious look. "Yeah, I understand why you don't want a repeat of last year."

"Exactly!" Oh thank god Pidge could connect the dots like a pro connector. "So will you finally tell me where he is?"

"Hmm." Pidge trails off, hands stroking her chin in thought as she leans against the wall. Keith can see the gears rotate over her head as she thinks - from the look on her face, it's as if she's half curious to see how things play out without her help. One minute passes, then two, and just as Keith is about to - barge off on a hide and seek chase around campus, shake Pidge by the shoulders, pull out the chit of favors she owes him, who knows just anything but standing around and waiting - something flickers across her face. "Alright, I'll help you out. Try the gym beside the dance halls. Allura asked Lance to help her out with a project - that's probably where he'll be. Mind you, I dunno if he's still there, but it's a good place to start."

Keith grins, eyes lighting up. "Thanks, Pidge." He says, turning. The campus map flashes through his mind - the gym is around a fifteen minute walk, but if he ran he could probably shave a few minutes off his time. "See you later!"

"No problemo, lover boy. And eh, I’ll pass." Pidge grins, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Professor Slav is teaching about parallel universes today, don’t wanna miss it -”

Keith’s jacket was already disappearing around the corner with its owner before Pidge could finish her sentence, heart pounding  _ lance, lance, lance _ in his ears at a steady rhythm.

-

Despite the lack of breakfast in his stomach, Keith reaches the gym in record time. Only the quick reflexes he’d trained in taekwondo saves him from a nasty collision with Allura when he pulls open the door. After the mess that is pulling himself off the floor and question asking, it turns out that she’s done with her project - Lance left ages ago, and Allura doesn’t know where he is. Trail gone cold, Keith heads to the dance studio Shiro’s at -

Which isn’t where Lance is either.

Science lab? No Lance to be seen.

The pool? All Keith gets is a story about three dozen roses, a Sasquatch costume and the teacher’s dog, but there’s no Lance to laugh it over with him.

The study halls beside the pool?

“Lance!” The relief that shoots through Keith’s heart at the sight of that familiar green jacket is almost sharp enough to make him double over. A small grin spreading across his face, Keith begins to make his way through the crowd as Lance whirls around. It takes him a few seconds to see Keith. When their eyes meet, Keith’s heart quickens up almost unwillingly, and he gives a small wave.

Keith is expecting a wave back, maybe a small chat, definitely a smile of acknowledgement that he was there. Secretly, he hopes for a light to shine up in Lance’s eyes like how Keith feels whenever they’re laughing with each other instead of engaging in passionate debate.an affectionate tone to his greeting; but Keith is alright with the former.

What he does not expect is for Lance’s eyes to go wide and his face to flush up like an exploding tomato and for Lance to pat his classmate on the shoulder before turn tail and run away.

It’s like seeing an optical illusion in 3D, except it’s happening in the real world. For a moment, Keith’s world goes off beat, a rock in the boat that almost sends him staggering. By the time it uprights itself Lance is out of sight before Keith can even consider yelling.

What the fucking hell.

-

Try as he might, Keith can’t figure out why Lance is avoiding him. It’s not like they hate each other - they agree just as much as they disagree, and a year of schooling and debate have led to a sense of comradery that has only heightened the amount of affection Keith feels. Even if they bicker like children until their faces turned blue, avoiding each other has never been a thing for them - until now, that is.

Lance is avoiding Keith like he’s a bomb about to blow, and Keith has no idea why.

Even after years of therapy and reassurances, Keith doesn’t like relying on people. But drastic times calls for drastic measures, which is why after a couple of texts, he heads to the classrooms in the engineering building at breakneck speed.

He makes it there in record time. The plates make it easy to identify which class Hunk is in. Skidding to a stop outside room #3-01, Keith fumbles with the handle and pushes it open - the door slams open faster than Keith expects. The door slams against the wall with a thud loud enough to ring Keith’s ears, and that combined with the high pitch screech Hunk emits makes Keith flinch into a standstill with a wince.

" _ Aaagh IswearI’mnotre _ \- Oh, it's just you Keith. Jeez." Hunk rests a hand against his heart as Keith pants for breath, hands on knees. He’s seated at a desk near the door, eyes wide and body half twisted like he’s about to jump out of his chair. "Jeez, you scared the quiznak out of me! Never do that again or I swear no more peanut butter cookies for you."

“S-Sorry,” Keith wheezes. Oh god, running here had been a mistake. One he was never going to make again. “Just - huff - in a - pant - hurry - wait, I warned you I was coming!”

“Not at a hundred thirty miles per hour! And definitely not loud enough to wake the dead!”

“Well, want me to redo it again?”

“Ahahaha no.” Hunk leans down with the air of a disgruntled cat as Keith drags a chair to the other side of the table and slides gratefully into it. A glance at the papers reveals complex math Keith can only vaguely recognise - Hunk’s in the middle of homework, it seems. With a sigh, Hunk reemerges from under his desk, pencil clutched in victory. “Well, what’s up? Your text didn’t say anything much.” 

Keith leans forward. There’s no point beating around the bush. “Lance is avoiding me.” He states baldly, ignoring the hurt that the words give. “I don’t know why. Do you?”

“Wait, Lance is avoiding you?” Hunk looks away from his homework, eyes wide with surprise. “But I thought - what happened?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.” Keith rustles into his bag, pulling out the package and note. There’s no point hiding it from Hunk - Hunk has the senses of a housewife when it comes to gossip, and Keith would rather provide the information on his own terms than let someone take it without permission. “He left this at my apartment,” he explains as Hunk takes the package, eyes wide with curiosity. I wanted to give it back because I don’t want last year happening again-“ which was yet another reason to avoid hiding information “- except he ran when he saw me?”

Keith’s last sentence comes out more questioning than he likes - it makes him sound as if he’s not sure whether or not Lance is avoiding him (he is), when he’s asking for why. It brings up old memories too, long healed scars of the past, but Hunk doesn’t seem to notice. His tongue sticks out as he squints at the note, box held delicately in deceptively large hands, and Keith leans back against the seat as Hunk holds the box up to his ear and shakes it delicately as if it’s spun glass.

“Doesn’t sound like something hard,” Hunk is muttering under his breath. He looks like he's considering something (the item in the box, maybe?), but one glance at Keith seems to seal his decision. “Don’t worry,” he says cheerfully, lowering the box before Keith repeats his question. “Lance definitely doesn't hate you! We’ll uh, figure it out. Maybe Lance was running from someone else?”

“Maybe.” Keith frowns, recalling the crowded hallway. Lance knows a lot of people, it’s possible that it’s one of them - but no. Keith can still recall the exact moment Lance turned tail and ran. “Lance didn’t react until our eyes met - literally. If it’s because of others, he’d have run before that.” And yet he hadn’t. “It’s last year all over again.”

“Oh yeah, last year.” Whatever picture Keith is painting right now, Hunk is completely impervious to it. His laugh is warm and nostalgic and completely grating on Keith’s nerves. “Oh man, that was pretty fun. Got pretty hairy towards the end, and the snake was overkill, but yeah, it was pretty fun- I mean, it was terrible!” Hunk hastily changes his tune at Keith’s glare. “Flaming oven that set Coran’s moustache on Fire kind of terrible, let’s never go through that again kind of terrible, but if it was because of last year he’d have been avoiding you year round so it’s definitely something else please stop glaring at me like you want me to roast in an oven.”

Keith stops glaring - his head droops towards the floor instead. His groan, however, is long and full of suffering.

“Aww, Keith.” A warm and callous hand nearly envelops Keith’s shoulder with a pat - When Keith looks up, Hunk’s eyes are filled with sympathy. “We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. And as Lance's best friend I can say with complete certainty he doesn't hate you. But first - food!” With a beam, Hunk holds up a large thermos that appears seemingly out of nowhere. “Grandma’s onion gratin, freshly made and good for the soul. You look half starved, my dude, did you even eat breakfast?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Keith mutters in protest, but with almost comedic timing his stomach rumbles with outrage at his denial. Hunk raises an eyebrow skeptically, already pouring the soup into a round container, and Keith flushes red. “Ok, maybe a little.” He admits, and with that he accepts the container Hunk offers. 

The soup is creamy and filled with half melted onions and croutons - One sniff sends Keith’s salivary glands into overdrive. It’s mellow, savory with just a hint of spice, delicious heat that warms Keith all the way down to his toes. Hunk’s true passion might lie in engineering, but if he ever decides to transfer to culinary school Keith has no doubt that he’d make it big in no time. Each dish is crafted meticulously, filled with nutrition and good for the soul - with each swallow the faint pain ringing gently in his brain is soothed away, melting alongside the irritation and tension that’s been simmering in his psyche and leaving blissful peace in its wake. His head has never felt clearer. The soup is gone almost too soon; wiping at his mouth, Keith forces away the urge to lick the container clean and instead sets it down on the table with a satisfied sigh. 

It’s not until now, calmed and comfortable with the soup in his belly warming him up, that Keith realises just how scared he’s been about the situation.

“Like my mom always says, having a full stomach always helps,” Hunk quips cheerfully. He’s seated opposite Keith, a soft grin of pleasure on his face that appears whenever he sees someone enjoying the food he makes. “What’re you going to do?”

“I dunno, probably try finding Lance again.” Keith says thoughtfully. The chair moves back with a quiet screech as he stands. “I’m thinking of hitting the auditorium, cornering him in until he tells me what’s up. What do you think?”

Hunk nods his approval. “Sounds like a good idea. Lance’s phone has no charge, but if I remember right he’s probably heading to the canteen. If he’s not at the auditorium you can try there.”

“Got it.” Keith is already striding for the door, strategies flitting in his head, but then he pauses and turns back. “Thanks, buddy.” he says, smiling, and he doesn’t just mean for Lance’s location. Hunk’s food truly is miraculous, right down to the effects on the soul.

Hunk grins and waves back, and Keith has never been more grateful for their friendship in his life. “No problem, buddy. Good luck finding him!”

-

The soup’s effects last up until the third time Lance runs at the sight of him.

No matter how hard Keith tries, he can’t catch up - either Lance is too far away or he melts into the crowd like a chameleon. It's like trying to find Waldo while Waldo is on the move and the finder wearing an eyepatch and looking through the wrong side of a binocular. With each passing location and limbs aching from the running, Keith's heart sinks lower and lower. Desperation and misery swirls through him and hardens into rocks that weigh him down into the sea of despair with each passing step, and it's only through sheer stubborn tenacity that Keith manages to keep himself afloat.

Why was Lance avoiding him? Keith’s been looking everywhere and he still hasn’t found him - was Lance deliberately hiding from him? (He had to be, but where? A roof? The girls locker room?) It has to be something from last night - they’d been buddies until then, but try as he might Keith can’t remember much. Questions swirled around in Keith’s head like woodpeckers carving into Keith’s heart, and try as he might, Keith couldn’t dislodge the nagging doubt that sprouted thorny vines in his heart which squeezed in pain.

And just as always, the misery and desperation slowly transforms into anger. Anger and anxiety that bubbles under Keith’s skin like molten lava with no way out. Gritting his teeth, Keith makes his way through the plaza. It’s on the way to his next destination - the almighty cafeteria, center of chaos and noise, homing beacon to generation upon generation of hungry students, the bane and salvation of Hunk’s domain (Keith still doesn’t know how Hunk managed to strike up a deal with the Drink Vendor Grannies and Sal). Lance wasn’t there at his first search, but Keith trusts Hunk and he’s at the end of his tether. If Lance isn’t amongst the hundreds of students lounging in the cafeteria, Keith is officially giving up and heading back to the gym to punch his grievances out onto an unfortunate training dummy.

Fortunately for Keith’s heart and the training dummy, Keith spies a familiar tall lean figure exiting the cafeteria.

Keith blinks in disbelief. Then he blinks again. Nope, Lance is still there - wearing his dark green hoodie, talking casually to a girl Keith vaguely recognizes from science class, waving his hands animatedly in the air as he grins brightly as the sun. If Lance is the sun, Keith is the moon - just seeing that cheerful grin causes Keith to be overwhelmed with emotions and two thoughts smal into his head with the force of duo meteor.

One of those thoughts is ‘oh fuck he looks hot smiling like that I want to kiss him.’

The second thought, which is actually more of an afterthought but still extremely prevalent, is ‘I am going to punch that smile off his face. And then kiss him after. But first imma punch him.”

Eyes narrowed in irritation, Keith makes his way over with all the stealth of a ninja - he even crawls behind a bush in case Lance spots him.

Lance doesn’t spot him. Unfortunately, Lance’s classmate does.

“Hey, Lance.” She points at Keith’s direction. “Isn’t that your friend?”

“Oooh, who?” Lance turns with a grin, eyes shining. “Is it Matt? Cause I really need to-”

Lance’s jaw snaps shut when he sees Keith looking up from the floor. Their eyes meet.

Keith can see the instant Lance’s face goes from ‘ _ hello! _ ’ to ‘ _ oh shit its Keith and he’s pissed _ ’ to ‘ _ engage emergency escape program _ ’. Which is why when Lance abruptly turns on his heel to run like the wind, Keith is already scrambling to his feet to chase after him.

“Laa _aaance_!” Keith runs with the speed and power of a rampaging rhinoceros. Lance might have longer legs but Keith has more stamina, anxious rage pumping a machine gun staccato through his heart and determination fuelling his lungs and legs. “ _ Get back here _ !”

“ _No way you’re gonna kill me_ ,” Lance screams back. His leg pumps even faster and somewhere in the back of his mind Keith is appreciating the form of his run and the lines on his back but as the rest of his mind is focused on punching Lance’s face out Keith simply moves faster. “ _I’m too young_ _to die_!”

“I’m not gonna kill you I just-” Two familiar figures in front of them, chatting to one another. Keith’s eyes flashes. “SHIRO!”

Almost in tandem, Shiro and Matt’s heads whirl. It takes them only a moment to register the situation before they’ve spread out like footballers in the final round. Matt sprints the five yard dash, he dives -

\- and misses! Lance swerves like a frightened gazelle as Matt belly flops onto the ground - right into Shiro’s arms.

“Wha- _Shiro no_ ,” Lance screeches betrayal as he tries to struggle free, but Shiro holds fast. Shiro and his ridiculously solid arm muscles have reigned as the arm wrestling champion for 3 years running before Allura had knocked him off the throne, and they withstand Lance’s wriggling with the ease of a vet holding a cat. “ _I trusted youuu_ ,” Lance wails as Keith jogs up to them, wiping sweat out of his eyes.

“This is for the green paint last year,” Shiro says primly as Matt rightens his glasses and asks, like any other sane person would, “Why’re we catching Lance?”

Lance goes limp, clearly giving up on any chance of escaping. “I dunno, he was chasing me so I was running!”

“You  _ don’t know? _ ” Keith growls out breathlessly. His lungs are on fire and his throat is parched dry with smoke, but the answer is like oxygen to the flames of his rage. “What the hell d’you mean  _ you don’t know _ \- You were avoiding me!”

“False accusations, mullet for brains! I was totally not avoiding you I just - just had a uh, a few places to go to cause of Professor Coran-“ Lance pales as Keith draws himself up to his full height, eyes blazing. “Oh god please don’t kill me I swear I’ll keep it a secret-”

“ _I saw you running away you lying s-_ “

“Alright, calm down.” In situations where tensions run as high as a star in the sky and can turn into a falling meteor of regret and destruction faster than a popped balloon, Shiro’s voice has a particular tone that never fails to send the tension flying back into the stratosphere, and that tone is definitely present now. Lance and Keith immediately fall silent. “What is going on? Keith?”

“I’ve been trying to find Lance all morning.” Keith blurts out. The words rush out of him, water finally freed from its dam and taking the heat of his emotions with it. “I spotted him once but then he just - ran off. For-”

“Wait, secret?” Matt asks just as Lance squawks “ _ That was because _ ,” face blushing red, and even though his heart hurts Keith can’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. People’s heads turn at the noise, eyes going wide before dismissing it as yet another weird part of college life before heading back to their routine, and Lance lowers his voice accordingly. “That was because - just - look.” Lance sighs, scratching his head. “I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry. I’ll pretend it never happened and we can continue.”

Keith blinks. The apology is gratifying after all this time, but - something doesn’t feel right. Lance looks resigned like he’s about to get hit by a train and there’s nothing he can do about it, like he’s terrified, and oh shit. It was his temper, wasn’t it, his fucking violent temper messing everything up again. Keith’s heart twinges with guilt - yeah, he’s definitely not punching Lance now, not when he looks like that.

“Ugh,” He forces out, voice painfully stuck in his throat. His arms dangle uselessly at his sides - Keith folds them across his chest and out of the way, not quite looking at Lance’s face. “Look. I’m not mad at you - ok, I am mad at you,” he amends with a scowl at their disbelieving looks, “but not to the point that I want to just. Forget everything that ever happened. It wasn’t even that bad, anyway - I should have tried calling you again.”

(Behind him, Matt turns to Shiro. “Was it just me, or did Lance say secret?”

Tilting Lance to the side so that he can turn his head to the side without mushing Lance’s back against his cheek, Shiro nods. “No, I heard too.” he whispers quietly, directing his eyes away from the redness of Keith’s cheeks. He frowns. “Do you think..?”)

“Nah, that wouldn't have worked, my phone battery’s dead.” Lance waves his hands dismissively. “I forgot my charger and Allura lent hers to Shay. But you really mean it? You’re not mad?”

“Uh.” Keith gulps. Lance doesn’t look like he’s going to cry anymore - his eyes are wide, light falling softly across dark brown eyes that gleam with hope and relief and emotions Keith can’t quite decipher. His lips are slightly curled up, the beginnings of what looks like a smile about to sprout on his face and his cheeks are dusted a dark red for some reason - maybe it was from Shiro squeezing the life out of him. Yep, that's probably it. Keith is only thankful that the sudden wave of affection that’s swamping his heart hasn’t completely taken away his ability to utter words. “Uh. Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m not mad.”

(“Yeah.” Matt mutters back decisively, grinning. “My bet’s on Lance. Five bucks to the winner?”

“Mine’s on Keith.” Shiro’s eyes glint. “You’re on.”)

“Sweet!” The smile that bursts out on Lance’s face is like seeing a flower sprout, blooming in all its glory. Keith quickly looks away before it blinds him. “Oh thank god,” He says happily as Shiro finally lets his feet touch the ground. “I thought you were going to be so mad that I confessed to you last night-”

_ What _ .

Keith freezes. The words echo in his head.

Kissed you last night.

Kissed.

Last Night.

_ Kissed _ .

“- thought you forgot because you passed out on me after that but you didn’t, thank god-”

His crush confessed to him and he doesn’t even remember it until said crush brought it up. Inwardly, Keith is screaming, inner world cracking and rebuilding as the words echo in his mind. Why does the world hate him so?

“- so I ran and - hello? Earth to Keith? Dude, anyone there?”

It takes a herculean amount of effort, but Keith finally manages a hoarse, strangled “What.”

“Uh.” Lance blinks at Keith, smile slipping off his face. “What’ as in ‘yeah Lance I’m listening’ what or ‘what  _ the hell _ is going on’ what?”

Keith’s face is on fire. “ _ What _ .”

“Oh.” Lance’s face falls. “It’s the latter what, isn’t it? Oh no.”

Behind them, Shiro presses his prosthetic hand over his eyes with a silent groan as Matt raises the green bill in his hand with victory.

-

“Ok, so let me get this straight. You,” Matt says, pointing a straw at Keith, “Were trying to find Lance because he forgot something at your house after the drinking party and didn’t want things to turn out like the Bean Snake Incident. And you,” He says, straw swivelling over to Lance’s direction, “Thought he was out to turn you down after you confessed to him last night, but he actually didn’t remember and after our lovely little game of Tag you both misunderstood each other epically until Lance confessed again. Right?”

Keith nods, still lost for words. They’re in a secluded corner at the student cafe, Matt and Lance on one side with Keith and Shiro on the other. The exits are woefully far away - Keith is under no delusions why such a table was chosen. If any of them wanted to run, they'd have to not only make it past Shiro and Matt, but make it to the doors before the duo caught up. Like it or not, they are having this conversation.

Which is, honestly, fine with Keith. A quick pinch to his own wrist has convinced him that he's not dreaming, but he's still not quite sure what's happening. All he knows is that Lance has just confessed to him (to him! Keith internally thanks whoever's up there for a requited crush) and Keith wants to know, well, about everything. If it means remaining in one spot for half an hour while they're eating lunch, Keith is more than willing to do so.

Lance, on the other hand, seems less willing. "I still can't believe you betted on us," He's grumbling, leg shaking up and down as he sips his drink restlessly. "Is it revenge for the snowman competition? Because that was totally valid betting, everyone else was doing it!"

"It’s not about the snowman competition,” Shiro says calmly over a cup of hot mocha, but it’s a little too innocent to be genuine. “Professor Coran covered for us all in the end anyway. And before you ask, no, this isn’t revenge for the Bean Snake Incident. We’re just worried about you two, that’s all.”

“And what’s in the package?” Matt pipes in. The package Keith had been carrying around all morning was at the center of the table, and Matt pokes curiously at it with a finger. “It must have been a really important present for Keith to run around that much. What’s in it?”

At Matt’s questioning glance, Keith shrugs. “I don’t know.” It has occurred to him to open the package to check it himself, but it felt a lot like losing. “Lance?”

“Ugh, fine.” Lance sighs. “You can open it, Keith. It’s for you, mullet head, so go on, open it already.”

The present was for him? Heart in throat, Keith carefully opens the package.

It’s a scarf. It’s a dark burgundy red, soft wool knitted with a criss cross pattern, and when Keith picks it up it’s soft to the touch. Eyes wide, Keith’s head snaps up, lost for words.

“You remember how you lost your scarf after the Bean Snake Incident?” Lance explains anxiously, scratching the back of his head. “I know you’re still looking for a scarf, so I bought you one. It was my fault after all.” He looks away, cheeks blushing a dark red. “It’s ok if you don’t like it, I know it’s pretty shit, you can just toss it or whatev-“

Lance stops mid-tirade when Keith wraps the scarf around his neck. “Are you kidding? I’m never going to toss this,” he says, affection spreading through him, and he’s not quite sure what expression he has on his face but it’s enough for Lance’s to look like his crops have been watered and they’ve grown a bumper crop of strawberry blushes. “This scarf is perfect, I’m going to wear it until my funeral.”

(Behind them, Matt tilts his head at the two. “You think this is a good time to ask what the Bean Snake Incident is?”

Shiro sips his coffee serenely. “Maybe we should wait for them a little more. Or I could tell you while we give them some privacy.”

“I think it’s better if you tell the story,” Matt scoots away from the two with a grin, elbows resting across the table as he leans forward. “There was this mention of paint..?”

“That happens later on.” Shiro leans forward too, grinning conspiratorially as he keeps his voice low. “It begins with…”)

"Yes!" Lance's smile is wide and sincere, eyes lighting up like all his dreams have come true - and almost immediately after he coughs into his hand and leans back against his seat and utterly failing at looking like he knew Keith'd accept the gift all along (beside him, Shiro and Matt snicker). “I mean - it is a pretty good gift, I totally knew you'd like it. You know what they call me - Lance, ultimate giver of gifts!” Keith lets out a snort as Lance preens, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, but that doesn't stop him from sensing the undercurrent of anxiety in Lance's words. “Sure you don't want a cooler one though, cause I saw a pretty nice o-“

“The only way you can take this scarf back is over my dead body,” Keith states baldly, but he’s smiling, lips curved up in a slight grin. “This is perfect, Lance, thank you.”

Their eyes meet for a second as Keith glances up. Lance glances away, cheeks reddening, and Keith can feel his cheeks reddening too at the sudden rise of affection and nervousness. Taking a sip of his drink to recenter himself, Keith leans back against the chair, the taste of apples sitting cool on his tongue as he tries to decide how to get to the meat of the conversation - the confession.

He knows that Lance likes him now - how has he never noticed the blushing and lingering gazes before, the way they seek each other out? - and that this is the perfect time to confess, but with Lance sipping at his frappe like he hopes it’ll deter him from any conversation Keith is at a loss on how to approach.

Insides tingling like the butterflies of anxiety are beginning to hatch, Keith takes another sip from his cup in what he hopes is a cool and totally not nervous manner. It takes 8 sips for Keith to give up hope of Lance starting the conversation, and 2 more sips to brace himself to start what is probably going to be the most awkward conversation in his life. Keith's only thankful that Matt and Shiro are too absorbed in their conversation to make it even more awkward.

"So." Keith says, clearing his throat. He clutches the edges of the scarf, fingers fidgeting restlessly with the wool. "You uh. You confessed to me last night?"

He's fully prepared for Lance to laugh it off or try to flee, but Lance doesn't do that. Instead, he hunches in on himself, an uncharacteristically serious look spreading on his face as he puts down his drink. "Yeah." Lance says quietly, looking down at his drink. "Yeah, I - I did, ok? Look, it was the alcohol making me talk crazy so you can just.” Lance gives a jerky one shoulder shrug. “Ignore it-“

“No.” Keith puts his drink down and leans forward, eyes staring intensely into Lance’s. Lance freezes. There’s something warm bubbling in Keith’s gut that isn’t the drink, and when Keith says ‘tell me what you said last night,” something in Keith’s voice makes Lance talk instead of clamming up, low and stuttering, face heating up with each word.

“I-I like you, ok? My heart beats faster everytime we talk and it feels like my heart is fluttering and - well, I just." Lance smiles helplessly, almost resigned, and something in Keith’s heart twinges. “I like how passionate you get when you’re debating and how you cross your arms when you’re nervous and how your eyes gleam this weird violet when you turn just right and ok I’m just going to shut up now but yeah I just really like you a lot ahahaha.”

Keith blinks. Something warm spreads in him like warm cacao on a cold winter day, satisfying and spreading heat all the way down to his toes. "Oh."

"Oh?" Lance's echo is almost indignant in a way that sounds designed to hide hurt. " _ Oh? _ ' That's all you have to say? I confessed my heart out to you, man, at least sound a little more impressed before you reject me-"

Keith's cup lands on the table with enough force to stop Lance mid-tirade. "Oi," he says fiercely, panic and affection rampaging a whirlpool in the undertone. Rejection?! Nonono Lance is not going to pull that crap on him, not if he can help it, "Who said I was going to reject you, you beanpole?! I like you too!"

It takes him a few seconds to realise what he said. The second he does, Keith’s face immediately lights up with the red of a blazing bonfire. He almost tries to take back his words, burning them into illegible ashes blown away by the wind, but Lance - his face is light up with every source of emotion; eyes gleaming like he doesn’t quite believe its reality, and so Keith slouches back into his chair and turns his head away instead, willing his blush to settle back down.

“Really?” Lance finally asks, as if he’s not quite sure that what Keith said is true. A quick glance out of the corner of Keith’s eyes reveals a fragile unsure happiness, glass that’s halfway cracked. “Do you mean you like me as a friend, or that you - you love me?”

“I-I.” Keith takes a gulp of his drink for fortitude, scarf gripped in his fingers like it’s a rock of stability. This is not how he imagined his love confession to play out, but Keith is perfectly willing to do this if it means Lance will believe that his crush is reciprocated. “I. I like you. Ok?” He shoots the words out like bullets, aggressive and unstopping despite the embarrassment flushing his entire face red. “I love your laughter, the way your hands move when you’re talking, how excited you get when you come across the latest game and how you talk to people so easily.” Keith smile is gentle, his heart finally free as he pours all the emotions that he’s bottled out into words. “I’ve liked you ever since you gave me a concussion during open house. I love you, Lance, and if it’s ok with you, I want to spend the rest of our days together.”

Silence. Keith’s entire body is on fire, static crackling restlessly through his bones, but he waits. Lance is looking at him like he’s never seen him before, mouth agape, eyes wide like Keith is stardust shining in space, and Keith wants to shrink away from that gaze but instead he stands tall and meets it with a look of his own, honest and full of the love he feels.

Lance’s smile is radiant, burning bright, blinding light that outshines the sun. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh god yes.” The heartfelt words are barely out of Keith’s mouth before Lance is leaning over the table. Lance’s lips feels soft, smooth with what feels like lip balm, and even though the kiss is short and chaste it sparks what can only be called an electrical outage of emotions in Keith’s mind; heat radiating contentedly from the whirlpool of emotions in his heart as he commits it to memory, love burning itself and settling into his bones.

They’ve just barely pulled away when they hear a familiar click. Keith almost gets whiplash from his fast his head turns - Matt is beaming like a monkey with his phone out in front of him. “Pidge and Hunk are going to be so pleased,” He cackles gleefully.

“Matt!” Keith’s about to lunge for the phone when Lance laughs, while and heartfelt.

“Let him,” Lance says happily, and Keith’s heart skips a beat as Lance’s hand clasps his own, fingers intertwining. “They can’t handle the amount of love that we have, they’re gonna regret how lovey-dovey we can get!”

Shiro wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “Ah, they grow up so fast,” he says mockingly, but he’s beaming like a proud parent, and his next words are sincere. “Congratulations, Keith, Lance.”

“Shiro.” Keith looks away, cheeks tinted red, but he grins and lifts Lance’s hand in his own like they’re champions. “You’re right, Lance,” Keith’s grin is almost devilish. “Let’s make them regret ever asking for photos.”

With his friends supporting him, Lance by his side, beaming and happy and love reciprocated, there is nothing that can bring Keith down.

-

(Naturally, the pictures are deleted after the congratulations and betting money have been passed around, but Keith keeps two in a folder inside his phone - a picture of him and Lance holding hands, beaming their love at each other, and the picture of Keith surprise kissing Lance on the cheek, red scarf wrapped around his neck.)

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing romance, ahahaha. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Hunk totally knew about the crush, he's had to listen to Lance wax lyrical about Keith ever since he had it, he considers sending Keith off to murder Lance ample revenge for having to sit through that time Lance ranted about Keith's face for eight straight hours when he was trying to study for an exam.
> 
> This is the edited version of what I submitted for Voltron SS 2017 (unedited version can be found [here](https://allebooklover.tumblr.com/post/169143011680/playing-postman-of-love).  
> (yep I finally figured out how to link stuff sweet)  
> AWESOME FANART BY HAILEY HERE (THEIR ART IS AWESOME CHECK IT OUT!!)


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